


AoKuro Week 2015

by michabris (sinamour)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:26:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinamour/pseuds/michabris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fics for AoKuro Week 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Know Your Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Daiki wrecks their home. (Prompts: crime/domestic/honeymoon/”Look at these guns”)

Tetsuya’s Sundays used to be calm - quiet and easy and filled with enough alone time that he can go through all of his favourite things at a pace that he is comfortable with. Morning was reserved for Nigou’s walks, sometimes taking them to the edge of the town nearly two hours away - maybe even a little further into the medley of bird calls and insect buzz of the nearby forest reserve.

Late breakfasts and brunch and teatime were for reading and blogging, and maybe even a smidgen of gaming if he felt up for it. By the time dinner rolled around, Tetsuya was usually rejuvenated enough to face everything that came with the new week: the onslaught of sticky, grabby hands of his toddling students; dinner obligations with colleagues; insistent calls and visits and invitations from childhood friends -

Except it’s all different now - because when Nigou comes whining and scratching at the door, and Tetsuya tries to roll out of bed to tend to his dog; he is caught and hauled back by a single arm, and disciplined into place by a single, lazy grunt.

“Oh, come on, Aomine-kun,” Tetsuya moans, muffled by the pillow that he’s fallen against, arms trapped by the strength of Daiki’s grip. “Are we really going to do this every morning?”

“You’re an Aomine now too, in case if y’forgot,” Daiki’s voice is just as muffled as Tetsuya’s, and there is a subtle shift in the blanket that scrunches itself into a tighter bunch. “And it’s not every morning. It’s just Sunday morning.”

Tetsuya struggles to victorious freedom and twists around to fix his lump of a bedmate with a petulant, put out stare. “Yesterday’s not a Sunday, nor was the day before. And definitely not the day before yester -”

Except Daiki gives him no chance to finish because he knows where this is going - he’s heard enough arguments between his own parents to know - and does a sneak attack, rolling Tetsuya into a burrito of blanket as well. “Shush, Tetsu, not so loud - not so early in the morning,” he smirks sleepily into the visible half of Tetsuya’s incensed face before falling back onto his pillow with an almighty snore, “The neighbours will complain.”

And that is that, Tetsuya stuck so tight between the warmth of the blankets and his husband’s embrace that he doesn’t even have the breath to complain or pacify his frantic and upset puppy scratching at their door.

Nigou pees right on Daiki’s shoes to signify his obvious disapproval, and Tetsuya has to physically restrain his partner from mauling his puppy.

-

It’s already lunchtime by the time Daiki finally lets him roll out of bed, and Tetsuya swears that he will never indulge Daiki like that ever again as he pacifies Nigou with boiled salmon and chicken meat, slathered with a generous amount of peanut butter and cheese. It takes a bit of an effort - okay, that’s a lie; it takes a lot of effort - but he manages to ignore the superior, smug smirk that Daiki pulls every time he catches look of the dark, black bruise that’s littered liberally around Tetsuya’s neck - and more across the span of his torso.

“Look away, Aomine-hentai,” he tries at first, walking around the kitchen in a loose, oversized shirt of Daiki’s and pulling out pots and pans. He’s still not decided yet if he wants to use them to cook their lunch or to throw it at his husband’s face.

“Aww, embarrassed, Aomine-chan?” Daiki teases as he approaches Tetsuya and rests his lips on one of the less prominent marks, laughing when Tetsuya swats at him for the fifteenth time that day.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Yeah well, you won’t stop calling me by my surname, and you know me - I like to return the favour.”

“It’s Kuroko - Aomine-kun is such an asshat. If you were one of my students, I’d have absolutelly no qualms about boxing your ears,” Tetsuya retorts, biting at his husband’s nose and forcing him away before pausing abruptly. “Oh.”

“Hnnwhat?”

“Look at those guns.”

“Whoaaaa, that was suuuuuuuuuuuuuper scary, I nearly peed my pants,” Daiki snorts unattractively, returning to his perch on the island table in their kitchen and hopping up on it. “Tell you what, baby boy, you have no gu-”

And Tetsuya slams right into him, taking him down to the floor just as the window above their sink shatters.

“You were saying?” Tetsuya asks, voice almost mild, as he raises his face from Daiki’s chest.

The look on Daiki’s face is almost hilarious if it weren’t for the horror of the situation. “Motherfucker!” Tetsuya almost laughs at the sound of disdain in his partner’s voice, almost bordering on sacrilegious. “Motherfucker! That bastard wrecked our window!” Daiki stares at Tetsuya like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I just fixed that goddamn window last week from the last time!”

“No, Aomine-kun,” Tetsuya is as patient with Daiki as he is with his students. “That was the front window in the living hall.”

“...Oh,” Daiki frowns, opening his mouth to say something else, but he gets interrupted by the ricochet of a stray bullet that whizzes too close to Tetsuya for his liking.

“Geez, are these kids even trained?” he rolls them around and takes the opportunity to press a kiss against Tetsuya’s temple as he pushes himself into half a crouch. “It’s like they’re just randomly shooting in hopes that it’ll hit either of us.”

“Hit you, you mean?” Tetsuya is remorseless as he raises an eyebrow at Daiki, who pulls an appalled look in response.

“Please. Do you even know your own worth?” Daiki wags a finger at him even as he crawls over to their refrigerator and tugs the door open. He’s fast and precise, shoving half his body in and rummaging with loud clunks before reappearing with a three guns - one that he shoves into the waistband of his pyjama pants, and two that he holds.

Tetsuya eyes them curiously, especially the one by the waistband.

“Aren’t you afraid that it’ll drop into your pants and blow your balls off?”

“Tetsu!”

“I’m sorry,” Tetsuya quips, lips curved a little upwards, but then adds almost instantly “Not really.”

“Tch, bastard,” Daiki surges up then, eyes narrow and focused, guns loosely gripped in his obvious, unwavering confidence. “Well then, let me remind you just how much you’re worth again, darling husband of mine.”

It is only a single heartbeat, but it is a heartbeat that leaves Tetsuya breathless and gasping at the same time -

It is the jump of a pulse that reminds Tetsuya of how much he loves this man - of how much he will love this man - of how much he himself is treasured.

Daiki doesn’t even seem to notice the increased flurry of bullets that showers their home the moment he appears, framed by the bare, destroyed window sills, and he takes out one-two-three idiots within seconds. Daiki’s not invincible, Tetsuya knows, but in that single frozen frame of time where he pulls Tetsuya up and shoves him behind a shield of strong shoulders set in determination, Tetsuya can’t help but think that his partner - his gruff, caustic, arrogant other half - is as invincible as they come.

Daiki makes a show of taking out the final assassin wannabe before he turns to Tetsuya, eyes uncharacteristically serious where Tetsuya’s used to the teasing sparkle that he has whenever they’re spending time together. “You’re worth the entire underworld of Japan because God help me, if someone dare touches a single strand of your hair - I will burn the entire organisation down, Akashi be damned.”

Tetsuya watches him - watches the way stray sunlight washes over his short tufts of hair, turning it a strange wisp of deep-ocean-seaweed colour - watches the way Daiki moves to embrace him -

And he raises a gun to shoot at point blank.

The silence that follows rings with the vicious echo of the shot, but Tetsuya tips his head to the side like he’s paying respect to it, and Daiki -

Daiki rages like an afternoon typhoon that doesn’t know the meaning of destruction, grabbing the gun first, and then Tetsuya’s head like it’s a water balloon that he can burst just by tightening his grip. Neither of them even turns a hair at the sound of a final body hitting the floor with a bloody squelch.

“Oy, you bastard!” Daiki grapples Tetsuya into a careful headlock and keeps him there with a force that he knows will not be mistaken as violence or force. “Did you want me to go deaf? You could’ve just told me, I can shoot that guy myself!”

But Tetsuya shakes him off then and stares him in the eye, a steady touch on his arm. “You forget my heritage just because I’m a kindergarten teacher now, Aomine-kun. You shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t -”

“Seijuurou will be happy to let me remind you, even if you’re his precious right-hand man.”

Daiki pouts up a storm them, whacking his husband up the head. “Don’t even think about tattling to your cousin if you really do love me! He’ll have me shipped to some freaky, snaky places that even you will have qualms going, you little bastard!”

Tetsuya laughs then, shaking his head and patting Daiki on his forearm. “Seijuurou wouldn’t. He knows I can’t bear to be away from you for too long.”

“Tch,” Daiki huffs again, then holds up Tetsuya’s gun, stacked against Daiki’s own. “Where the hell did you get this gun? Don’t tell me you kept your own stash?”

The look that Tetsuya gives him then was nothing short of withering. “Of course not. No self-respectable teachers would have anything remotely dangerous on him or her at all times.”

“...And?”

“...And even though you weren’t afraid of the gun blowing your balls off, I was.”

Daiki facepalms and snorts at the same time because really - how do you respond to your husband when he tells you something like that?

“Ugh, whatever. Fuck, I wish these people would give us a break. Three weekends in a row, can you believe it?”

“Just another manic Sunday.”

“Stop with the lame jokes!” Daiki shuffles over and pulls out the broom from the back of a cupboard. Tetsuya is right though. It’s just another manic Sunday; and theirs is just another modern fairy tale -  there’s no other better or more accurate way to put it.

 

 


	2. Lancelot & Guinevere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kingsman!AU where Daiki is invited to buy a suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Prompt: suits) This is the Kingsman!AU that I’ve been wanting to write since I saw the movie

Aomine steps into the store like he owns it - a greedy little child who thinks the world of himself - and he picks an imaginary lint out of one of the three-piece suits, dapper and dandy on a mannequin. It’s empty, but there are signs of recent activity: the revolving fan, a disarray of measuring tape and utensils, the cup of coffee so hot Aomine can see steam rising -

He imagines the tinkle of the bell that he believes should greet every customer to a quaint, antique little store like this, and grins with a level of confidence that is easily mistaken for arrogance. It doesn’t matter that he’s in frayed jeans and faded punk tank-tops; clothes aren’t enough to intimidate him - even if it’s really good-looking suits that probably cost more than half his meagre life savings.

“Damn, Akashi sure owns some fan-fucking-cy tailor store,” Aomine is ready to admit, though, whistling his approval even as he wanders further within. His fingers are nimble as it runs down the lines of clean stitches and winking buttons, peering closer to inspect some. “Y’think maybe these buttons were made of some weird precious stones? Should snitch some and see if I can sell them on the streets, maybe Satsuki’ll have a new dress or something.”

And then there is a cough to the left of Aomine’s elbow, and he nearly slams a punch into what looks like a middle schooler who deflected his fist with an unimpressed flick of his wrist. It sends Aomine tottering to the side in an unstable crab-walk before the other person puts a hand to his chest and stands him on his feet again.

“My deepest apologies for startling you, sir.” Aomine’s still too startled to actually come up with a snarky comeback, so he gapes like a goldfish and waves an uncertain hand back and forth like he’s miming a Chaplin. “But I was getting a little concerned when you said that you’d like to snitch some of the buttons.”

Aomine at least has the grace to look a little ashamed. “I - uh - I really didn’t mean that. I just said that - uh -”

“It’s not a problem,” the new attendant shakes his head, an unruly head of pale, fluffy hair. “But for the record, those really are just buttons. Polished, but nothing precious.”

“Uh - ”

“My name is Kuroko Tetsuya,” he bows a little now, casting sharp little eyes on Aomine through a curtain of banks, “How may I help our esteemed customer today?”

And Aomine thinks he wants to be pissy just because this Kuroko Tetsuya has threatened his manliness, but what the hell - Akashi has drilled it deep into his head: “manners maketh man”, and Aomine isn’t sure if he can become Lancelot if he blows past that most basic commandment. Aomine’s not the most refined of them all - heck, he’s from the streets; all “yo bro, wassup” - but even he can strive to abide by the Kingsman’s Chivalry Code.

So he clears his throat and gathers his heels together into a sharper stance. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” Aomine says, and preens when he sees a bit of approval lift the curl of Kuroko’s lips. “But I’m here to meet Akashi.”

And he preens some more when he sees surprise fight off the approval on his face before it smooths out into bland politeness. “You have an appointment with Seijuurou?”

Aomine’s halfway into a shrug before he catches himself and tips his head courteously, even as surprised as he is that someone dares to use the current Arthur’s name. “That’s what I said.”

He holds still when Kuroko gives him a once-over. “If it’s not too much trouble, may I have your name, sir?”

“Daiki. Aomine Daiki.”

Kuroko watches him again, and Aomine thinks it’s stupid, but he kind of likes the caution that he’s being treated with. Two beats of heart, and Kuroko clears his throat again. “I think Seijuurou’s planning to help you select a suit, yes?”

“Hm, perhaps?” Aomine blinks, but then realises how off-handed that sounds and quickly tacks on, “I mean, he didn’t say. He only told me to ‘present yourself at the tailor shop called Teikou’s.”

“That certainly sounds like something that Seijuurou would do,” Kuroko smiles then, and then sweeps an inviting hand towards the inner section of the store. “Shall I bring you to look at the shoes first? Are you looking for oxfords or brogues, sir?”

This time, Aomine doesn’t even gets the chance to filter his words before it’s out in the open. “Oxfords, not brogues.”

And the front door opens right then, Akashi stepping in with the most amused grin Aomine’s ever seen.

“Ah. So you’ve met our beloved Guinevere, I see.”

Aomine blinks and chokes on air at the expectant look that Kuroko is sending him. “Y-your wife?! I didn’t know you were gay!”

Akashi looks like he’s torn between being speechless, reprimanding, or laughing; Kuroko is less conflicted and jabs him straight in the sides.

“You’ll do well to remember that I’m his brother, Lancelot.”

“... I-I’m sorry.”

 


	3. Burglary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a break-in in Kuroko’s apartment unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Prompt: Aomine/Kuroko neighbours turned friends turned lovers AU)

Tetsuya is putting the children to sleep for an afternoon nap when he picks up the first call, and frowns when he sees the number because he’s forbidden Daiki from calling him during work hours. Daiki’s been pissy about it at first, but with a little cajoling and a whole lot of backrubs and kisses and cuddling, Tetsuya’d managed to reign his boyfriend in to his wishes.

So for Daiki to actually break his promise and call at this hour - it sets off Tetsuya’s alarm, and he’s not wrong about it because the moment he picks up the call, there’s rage spilling out of the earpiece and Tetsuya’s taken aback by the ferocity of it.

“Daiki?”

“^#&%^*$%)&)_ASJDFJKL;(%#$^#!!!”

“...” Tetsuya takes a moment to stare at his phone before putting it back to his ear. At least it didn’t sound like Daiki was injured on the job. “Daiki, that’s too much expletives. Can you filter it a little?”

There is an angry snarl that strangely makes Tetsuya want to laugh, and he has to apologise to his colleague and duck out of the room into the hallway for more privacy. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said,” Daiki growled, a self-righteous little note in the way he drawled his words, “There is a goddamn burglar who broke into your apartment, except that fucker says that I’m the burglar!”

It takes Tetsuya a moment to digest that. “You mean someone broke into my house?”

“Yes!” Had Tetsuya been in the company of his boyfriend then, he’s pretty sure that Daiki would have given him the incredulous look that he reserves for anyone he thinks particularly slow on the uptake. “I was in my own unit, and I’d wanted to go do my laundry, but then I figured I should do yours too since it’ll be a full load, but the moment I stepped out of my front door, I SEE THIS ASSHOLE MERRILY BARGING HIS WAY IN -”

And there is a distinct sound of growling and scuffling, and Wakamatsu’s screaming at the top of his voice for Daiki to shut up because “NO SELF-RESPECTING OFFICER WILL SCREAM HIS HEAD OFF LIKE A HOOLIGAN” - hypocrisy aside.

“Okay, okay,” Tetsuya soothes on his end of the line, and is pleased when Daiki stops yelling to pay attention. “So do you need me to come home now? Or are you calling me to inform me?”

“...mmmmmbalammmallm.”

Somehow, that is worse than when Daiki was screaming.

“...Okay, this time you’re mumbling. How about you try tuning up a bit more?”

Daiki huffed loud enough that he could have blown an entire concrete and steel building away if he wanted to. “I said,” he impressed, quite vehemently, “I’matthepolicestationandIneedyoutobailmeout.”

“... yes well,” Tetsuya thinks that he should pretend to be dumb for once and states the obvious because he really, really doesn’t want his assumptions to be verified, “You’re a police officer; of course you’ll be at the police station.” It’s almost a triumphant victory that he manages to keep his voice steady even in the apparent idiocy of what might have happened.

“God Tetsu,” Tetsuya can imagine Daiki’s signature arm-tossed-in-the-air gesture - the one that says fuck it, why me?!, and he waits patiently until Daiki’s done with his tantrum the way he waits for his students’.

“So?”

“... the stupid burglar accused me of being a burglar too. But!” Daiki admits reluctantly, but quickly tacks on, as if it makes any difference, “I made sure to sock the bastard a good one!”

Except Tetsuya’s relatively unimpressed, but also shocked and amused and baffled. How exactly did Daiki go from a police officer to a burglar?

“Okay, just so you know, we’re going to talk more about this later, but is there anything that you need me to do? Do I need to come down and verify documents? Or meet the burglar? The burglar was apprehended, yeah?”  

“Of course!” Daiki exclaims, as if appalled at Kuroko’s lack of trust in his abilities. “...but I need you to come bail me out.”

“... I’m sorry, what?”

“I need you to come and bail me out because the goddamn burglar accused me of being the burglar and for assault, and stupid Imayoshi is taking the bastard’s word for it now because they can’t find evidence that he’s a burglar!”

In Tetsuya’s (admittedly childlike) impression, a burglar will look like a burglar - dressed in black, with a mask over his face, stealthy - so he doesn’t understand what Daiki means when he says that they can’t find evidence. He’s practical, though, so he promises Daiki that he will be there in half the time that a sane, rational-thinking person would promise, and runs out of the kindergarten after informing his superiors and co-workers of the situation.

Except he’s stopped at the gates by his phone ringing again, and this time he picks it up without checking.

“Kuroko!” Tetsuya blinks and pauses. It’s Taiga this time, an old American-returnee friend from high school who’d went back to the America for his tertiary education before deciding to settle permanently there. He’d flown back to Japan for a visit, and Tetsuya had met up with him - hung out with him -

“Fuck, Kuroko! I need you to bail me out from the police station near your place. This fucking burglar actually came crashing in -”

\- and suddenly Tetsuya thinks he knows exactly what was happening.

-

“Well then,” Tetsuya sits in between the two males who were conveniently situated on two different ends of the long dinner table. The atmosphere is heavy with tension, and Tetsuya’s sure he saw electric sparks clashing some - but he pushes on anyway. “Let’s start on a clean slate this time, shall we?

“Kagami-kun, this is Aomine-kun - my neighbour.”

“And boyfriend.”

“...and boyfriend. Yes, that too.”

“Why did you have to couple with such an idiot?”

“EXCUSE YOU, YOU SON OF A -”

“AND AOMINE-KUN - ” Tetsuya pushes them both back into their seats. “This is Kagami-kun. My long-time friend whom I’m hosting at my place, but forgot to tell you. Can we shake hands and play nice now?

“Hmph.”

“...please?”


	4. Chromestesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsuya mistakes Daiki for someone else - repetitively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Prompt: "I'm sorry, but you looked like someone I know.")

The first time it happened, Daiki was in the park, minding his own business and wallowing in some self pity that would have earned him a scoff by his childhood friend, Satsuki. He’d been trudging gloomily through the park, mowing a clear path through the green carpet as he mulled and brooded at the same time; and there’s also a vicious pleasure when he sees the children scrambling to flee out of his path, leaving a Daiki-torn patch of play spot.

His dilemma wasn’t exactly life-wrecking; if anything, he was in a pretty good spot at this point in life. Just recently out of high-school and a successful basketball career, he’d been offered three different sport scholarships to three different universities – all stellar; all well-known – except, shit, his best friend, Ryouta’s pulled some strings and thought that he could offer Daiki a good modelling position that lets him star close to, if not right beside, his favourite gravure model - Horikita Mai.

It’s not a full-time position, Ryouta’s promised him, and it really shouldn’t have been a problem, but his scholarships have been pretty fucking clear about it: scholarship recipients will lose their right to the scholarship if they were found to be working in questionable positions.

“Mai-chan isn’t questionable, damnit,” Daiki buried his nose into the high-collared shirt that he wore, mumbling and giving every kid in his way the stink-eye. “Mai-chan’s a goddamn national treasure - what do these old geezers even get off to if not her?!”

Two mothers nearby grabbed their children and physically removed them out of hearing range, returning Daiki’s stink-eye.

“What, think you’re so righteous?” he snarked under his breath and tucked his face deeper, but that’s the exact time he felt someone tug at his coat from behind and his temper had been tested enough that he felt it justified to pack a punch of sarcasm into his words. “Oy, what the hell is your problem?! Think your kid’s not gonna ever learn to be foul-mouthed? How about you think again cuz - oh.”

Oh, because here’s an obviously innocent bystander - an unassuming, surprised look clearly on his face even with half of his face drowned by a pair of shades.

And a dog - that seemed to look equally surprised at his sudden outburst too.

Well, fuck. What now.

But the dog’s a lifesaver, because he-she-it broke the awkwardness with a loud bark, and Daiki took a step back even as the other boy - shorter than Daiki by a head and a shoulder, a little ghostly-looking - tugged on the leash and admonished, “Rude, Nigou.”

He turned to Daiki after that and shifted to not-quite-face Daiki, and bowed to Daiki’s left shoulder.

“My apologies, Nigou’s not been out of the house for more than a day. He can be quite rowdy when that happens.”

Daiki took a moment to look over his left shoulder to make sure that there weren’t invisible angels or demons lounging on his shoulder, or another person, whom this boy was addressing. “Uh. No. I mean.”

Daiki scratched his head then and watched as the boy attempted to peer at him (his shoulder) in interest. “I mean, I’’m sorry. I lost my temper. I thought you were… yeah, someone else.”

“Oh no, think nothing of it at all. I was the one who bothered you,” he smiled then, and ducked his head. “I got the wrong person though.”

“I beg your pardon?” Daiki didn’t usually use such refined language, but there’s a cultured kind of air around the boy that made Daiki feel compelled to abide. His surprise and disgust at his own unfamiliar diction was easily tamped down, though, when the other boy looked up and gave him a wry, peculiar-sounding laugh that drew at Daiki’s heart.

“I’m sorry, you looked like someone I knew, but I suppose not after all. Don’t let me hold you back any longer. Nigou and I will be on our way,” he murmured, bowed, and moved away with an odd, tentative shuffle that appeared to pace itself according to Nigou’s speed.

It’s only ten steps away that Daiki realised that the boy was blind, and the peculiar-sounding laugh wasn’t really peculiar - it was self-deprecating. By then, ghost-boy was gone -

And for some reason, Mai-chan’s status suddenly didn’t seem too important an issue anymore.

-

Daiki was halfway through a ferocious haggle with one of the university seniors when they met a second time, one and a half semesters in and happy enough that he’s not thinking about the missed opportunity to work with Mai-chan all the time. Instead, he was tussling it out by the edge of an outdoor basketball court, ready to get on his knees to beg his captain for a day off team practice.

“Dude, come on, cut me some slack, okay,” Daiki’d wheedled, nudging Imayoshi in the arm, “the game’s gonna be super cool - you know that the famed Jabberwock is gonna be going up against Vorpal Swords, and I wanna see them eat dust!”

Imayoshi pulled a frown, seemingly reluctant to budge an inch at all, but Daiki knew that it was all bullshit - Imayoshi was just as excited to hit the stadium to watch the game as he was. He had captain duties to fulfill, though, and it was necessary to put on a bit of show before he caved.

Just so that - y’know - captain responsibility, dignity, and all.

So Daiki shelved his pride and went down on one knee - and half an hour later was whistling his glee as he skipped away from basketball court. It wasn’t often that he’d willingly give up practice, but this is streetball, and it’s not just streetball, but streetball with a vengeance!

Except Daiki found himself tripping over the tail of a something right then, and it was the most ungraceful faceplant of the century - complete with butt-in-the-air pose.

“MOTHERFU-oh.”

“Oh.”

And there ghost-boy stood again, leash in hand and Nigou scampering around - a bewilderingly hopeful look on his face.

“It’s you again,” Daiki commented before he managed to stop himself, and laughed at the startled surprise on the other boy’s face.

“I beg your pardon?”

Daiki scratched his head awkwardly then. “I’m sorry. I forgot y’re blind.”

And then proceeded to slam his head into his palm. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so tactless. I meant - ”

“Oh,” ghost-boy breathed then, and Daiki liked the recognition that dawned on his face. “You’re the one I mistook from the park some time ago.”

Daiki liked the fact that he wasn’t the only one who remembered that incident even more.

“Yeah,” he huffed in a chuckle. “Yeah. I was the one. Nice meeting you again. And - uh - sorry about the blind comment, I really didn’t mean - ”

Ghost-boy chuckled in return. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind it. Though I suppose I owe you another apology for this time too.”

“Nah, no problem,” Daiki picked himself off the ground and brushed at the back of his pants. “Dogs can be pretty hyperactive sometimes, I know.”

And there it was - that wry, odd smile again. “Well, that too, but also because I - uh. I mistook you for someone else again, which was why I got Nigou to chase after you.”

“Huh,” Daiki paused mid-pat, “same person as before again?”

“...Yeah. Same person. I’m terribly sorry. It’s just that you guys are both so similar - I thought you looked like him.”  

Daiki fidgeted for a moment then, and then thought, to hell with it. “Y’know, no offence meant since this is only our second meeting, but y’said you thought I looked like him. You don’t even know what I look like.”

The long stretch of silence that followed after that made Daiki think that he’d insulted the other party, but when the boy pulled his face into a thoughtful look and inclined his head, he waited till ghost-boy gave a measured hum. “You’re right, I don’t. Know how you look like, that is. But the sounds that you make - they make me imagine things; attach a colour and a face, and all sorts of things to it. I suppose you could compare it to something like chromestesia? I never started off being blind after all, so even I can remember certain colours and connecting it to certain things.”

“Chro-what?” Daiki sounded like he’d twisted his tongue, and the other boy laughed into his fingers.

“It’s fine if you don’t get it. It’s nothing big anyway,” ghost-boy shrugged, and then turned to leave. “Sorry again for the trouble.”

“Hey, wait!” Daiki knew it was impulsive, but he’d always been like that, so he cleared his throat and offered, “m’name is Aomine Daiki. Just so you don’t mistake me for your friend again.”

Ghost-boy laughed again. “Hello, Aomine-kun. I’m Kuroko Tetsuya. I’ll do my best not to. Have a good day.”

Daiki thought that it was pretty nice that he had a name to tack to a face now. Calling Tetsuya ‘ghost-boy’ would have been pretty awkward.

-

The third time it happened, Daiki didn’t even remember what he was doing. All he knew was that he saw the by-now familiar white-gray coat of fur, and Tetsuya was sidling up to his sides once again.

“Aww, come on, Tetsu?!” Daiki didn’t even bother to hide his consternation. “Again?!”

“...Am I seeing Aomine-kun again?”

By this time, Daiki had taken the time to read up something on chromestesia, and he understood the condition well enough to be able to comprehend what went on in Tetsuya’s mind to have caused the same error - thrice. But even so -

“Dude, I can’t be doing things so similarly to this friend of yours that you keep mistaking me from him, can ya?” Daiki bent down and placed a tentative hand on Nigou’s head, grinning when Nigou nudged him twice and wagged his tail real fast. “Or maybe you should tell him not to keep leaving you behind because it’s just fucking insensitive that you keep having to run after him!”

He thought nothing about the silence that followed after; but maybe he should have because when Tetsuya replied next, there was a strangled note to his voice. “I should, shouldn’t I?”

Seven months later, when Daiki has Tetsuya snuggling into his arms, head upon his chest, and all the pieces of Tetsuya’s life laid out before him, he would have thought back and kicked himself stupid for being so insensitive; but in that moment, Daiki - clueless Daiki - thought that it was a good idea to make light of the situation.

“You gotta show me how this friend of yours look like! Is he as amazing-looking as this superior breed of a man here? - Oh hooooly crap, he looks like an idiot?! What the hell is with his two-pronged eyebrow?!”

Tetsuya both laughed and cried at the same time, tears streaking down his face, fingers stroking the side of his open wallet fondly.

“That’s my big brother, Aomine-kun - part of the military special task force. He’s been MIA since four years ago - and you remind me of him.” 

 


	5. Goodbye, and Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine touches the pocketwatch in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Prompt: Time travel)

Daiki hates the hospital. It’s too bright, too whitewashed, too clean - it reeks of medication and death and devastated hope, and there’s too many people screaming and crying and sobbing all at once. Daiki hates it - hates all the noise and the drama, and wishes that he could just avoid the hospital completely.

Except he also loves it. Because that’s where his everything is; it houses the love of his life - his heart - his joy - his light - a mother in the background

Daiki steps up his pace and leaves the wailing of a mother - broken beyond repair because her son is beyond saving - far behind him. He catches the groan of an accident victim before he rounds the final corner of the hallway almost instinctively, and just as automatically, dips his hands into his pocket and starts playing with the single pocketwatch that’s in it.

It had been a gift.

From the person he loved.

Loves.

Whatever.

He takes the elevator up to the fourth floor, and hides the bouquet of lilies behind him as best as he could because that’s how they usually do it in the movies.

And also because that’s how Tetsuya - darling, frail little Tetsuya - likes it.

A little romantic, a little flirtatious.

Daiki’d also tried a variety of other flowers as well, but Tetsuya seemed to favour lilies the most, and so he became less adventurous after a while. Sometimes, Daiki isn’t even sure if he’s doing the same things - buying the same things - because he knows that those are what makes Tetsuya happiest, or because he’s just going through the motions.

As the elevator door chimes open, though, Daiki shoves those thoughts to the back of his head and walks past four - five - six - eight - nine pale, humourless, heartless doors before stopping at the tenth. This isn’t the time for them, but then again, Daiki knows that there will never be because he’s been through the same loop of thought-cycle more than enough times to know when to give up.

In the movies, the protagonist will usually take a pause here – runs a hand through his hair, puts another hand onto the doorknob takes another minute to loiter around in his nervousness – but Daiki did no such thing. He only puts his hands into his pocket again, and rubs a finger around the rim of the pocketwatch again, and pushes the door open with the cheeriest grin on his lips.

“Yo, Tetsu!”

And a pale wraith looks up from the bed, no longer able to even sit up by himself, and Daiki doesn’t break. Because he’s been through this enough times already, knows he’s going to be seeing more of this Tetsuya, and Daiki doesn’t break.

So instead of toppling onto his knees and sobbing his eyes out, Daiki maintains the grin and marches towards the bed, watching the small smile that’s curled up on Tetsu’s face, but gets distracted by the eyes instead.

It’s always the eyes, because that’s the most eye-catching feature on the boy these days. Tetsu’s always got really intense eyes – not like Seijuurou, but still very penetrating and confident; and placed within a set of withered, diminished face, Daiki finds it incredibly piercing.

“Hello, Daiki.” Tetsu’s learnt how to call Daiki by his last name without expiring with a horrific blush, and it’s the one thing that Daiki is most grateful for in his life.

“Yep, that’s me,” Daiki grins and bends over to press a kiss onto Tetsu’s temple before slipping the flowers into his hands.

“They’re beautiful…” Tetsu can’t quite speak anymore either; he’s mostly breathing his words out now, and Daiki used to hate it because it’s such a joke – Tetsu’s always got a soft voice, but even so, his voice packs a punch of conviction. Time has taught him to be appreciative, though, and it’s been a hard lesson to learn.

But he learnt it anyway, and Daiki’s not complaining.

“Yep, I figured you’d like this one best, so I got it for you.”

“It’s fine even if you didn’t, y’know?”

“I wanted to,” Daiki swipes his fingers through Tetsu’s limp hair softly, gently. It’s not silky like how it used to be anymore, but fuck if Daiki doesn’t appreciate this.

“So want me to read you any books today?” he offers after a while of comfortable silence, and waits as Tetsu twists his head to the stack of books on the night table to his left, then to the open window to his right.

“Mmmno,” Tetsu smiles after a while, and then struggles to sit up before giving in to Daiki’s help. “Let’s sit by the window today. And Daiki can tell me about how everyone’s been doing.”

And so Daiki starts spinning his stories. He’s never used to be good at it – spinning stories took too much effort, too much memory, too much everything. Who even cares what Kagami’s doing, or how’s Kise’s modelling job, or where Midorima’s studying at these days?

But once it became a necessity – for Daiki to please and delight Tetsu – it became less of a chore, more of a oh-okay-I’ll-humour-you kind of thing. And his stories became wilder and wilder, more creative than ever before.

There’s no one to check up on the details anyway.

So today, he tells about how Midorima’s begged at the front of Murasakibara’s newly-opened café because his lucky item of the day is a doughnut infused with coffee beans, and he knows absolutely no one but Murasakibara who would be willing to make something like that.

Except even Murasakibara’s being a bitch on that day, and had refused Midorima’s request.

“Apparently, Midorima nearly got flattened by a freakin’ tractor on the way to Murasakibara’s place, and that’s convinced him that he absolutely had to have the doughnut.”

Tetsu breaths a laugh, and then comments, “Kagami-kun might have been able to help him if he weren’t so far away in the States. He’s amazing like that.”

“Ohoho. Are you implying something here?” It’s a running joke between them, but Tetsu’s always known that Daiki’s a little insecure when it came to Kagami, especially since they’ve dated a while before Kagami told Tetsu – authoritatively, fondly, lovingly – that Daiki’s really the right one for him. Tetsu doesn’t let them sweep the issue under the carpet, so Daiki’s developed a habit of joking whenever he feels like he’s being compared to Kagami.

“Of course not, you idiot.” Tetsu wants to raise a hand to swat at his nose, Daiki knows, because he sees the twitch of his fingers, but there’s hardly any strength in Tetsu’s body for that anymore. So he changes the script – starts talking about his basketball team this time, and they’re on the safe side again.

And it stays that way until 4.30, then 4.35, and then 4.40, and Daiki stands up and rearranges Tetsu – pale, paler than ever – onto the bed once more.

“Shhhh,” he hushes at Tetsu’s wan, sleepy smile, and presses another soft, quiet kiss against his temple again. “I’ve gotta sneak out or the nurse will have my hide this time.”

“Daiki…” Tetsu tries, and there’s a message hanging in the air between them, but his eyes are closed now.

And Daiki’s out of the room before machines start blaring all around as the heart rate monitor flatlines. He rubs another finger against his stopwatch again as he slinks away, even as faceless figures in white overcoats begin pouring into Tetsu’s room.

“Goodbye, Tetsu. Hello again tomorrow afternoon.” 


End file.
